


Sniper Rifle

by rauqthetommo



Series: Crossfire [11]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Divergence - No Pennywise, Car Accidents, Car Chases, Caring Richie Tozier, Discussions of violence, Fluff, Graphic descriptions of violence, Gun Violence, Guns, Hitman AU, Implied Sexual Content, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Mentions of Murder/Death, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Mentions of self-harm, Mild Gore, OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Patricia Blum Uris is a Good Friend, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Sexual Language, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soft Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend, Threats of Violence, Violence, car crash, mentions of BDSM, mentions of bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23703448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: Following the events of Rail Gun:After weeks of careful planning, it's finally time for the Allen Job, so Richie and Eddie gear up for their first face-paced hit together.An excerpt from this work:Richie slept late the next day, having been pretty well wiped out from his night spent with Eddie. He had a long couple of days ahead of him, getting ready for the Allen Job, so he didn’t waste anytime getting to work.(. . .)Richie would be up on top of the Ludwig Bank building, a skyscraper smack in the middle of Axis Street, which is the route Allen would be forced to take. Richie would keep an eye on things through a sniper rifle, something he’d have to borrow from Mike, as he didn’t usually use that kind of weapon.Eddie would keep his car in an alley on Perrin Road, two streets over from Axis, and wait for Allen and his backup car to pass by. He’d then run the backup car off the road and cut Allen’s car off. He’d kill him and the driver, with Richie helping out from up above if need be, and they’d take off together in Eddie’s car.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Crossfire [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658356
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Sniper Rifle

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I finally got through to unemployment, which is a massive fucking weight off my shoulders.  
> Like I said, this is where shit starts to pick up, and there's a lot of violence/gore in this part, so be warned.

Eddie insisted on cleaning the cuts on Richie’s wrists with hydrogen peroxide, telling Richie repeatedly that the last thing he wanted was to get an infection, so Richie let him. He sat on Eddie’s closed toilet lid in his bathroom while he worked, dabbing at the torn skin with a soaked cotton ball, nozzle of his aspirator aimed down his throat while he cleaned and wrapped Richie’s wrists for him. “Bill is going to think I tried to kill myself.” Richie commented as Eddie cleaned up his medical supplies. 

“Just wear long sleeves,” Eddie shrugged, putting his first aid kit back in his bathroom cabinet and closing the door. 

“Handcuffs, huh?” Richie asked as Eddie poured him a Dixie cup of water from the bathroom sink. 

“That’s what surprises you?” Eddie snorted, watching as Richie sipped the water. “Not the choking or the slapping? Not even the names?” 

Richie shrugged and handed the empty cup back. “It’s all very you,” 

“I don’t know what that means.” Eddie replied, tossing the cup in the garbage and taking another pull off of his inhaler. 

“Thank you for having me over,” Richie said, instead of elaborating. “I really am sorry I hurt you.” He took Eddie’s hand in his, turning it over to kiss his palm. 

“I guess we’re even now.” Eddie ran his fingertips over the bandage on Richie’s wrist. 

“Mm,” Richie hummed, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle and pulling him into a hug, pressing his face into Eddie’s soft tummy. “You’re incredible,” He mumbled into Eddie’s skin. 

“Do you always get so soft after sex?” Eddie asked quietly, stroking his hand through Richie’s hair. 

Richie laughed, glasses digging into his face as he kept his cheek pressed against Eddie’s torso. “Well, technically, yes.” He pulled back to look into Eddie’s eyes. “But so do you, Spaghetti-Man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Very funny, Trashmouth.” He turned away and leaned over his bathtub, turning the water on and stopping up the drain. “I’m gonna take a bath, Richie. You can hang around if you want to, or if you want to spend the night or whatever, that’s fine. I might be a while, though.” 

Richie watched as Eddie shed his boxer briefs, tossing them into his mostly full hamper in the corner before opening up bottle of soap and dumping some into the running water. “I should probably head home,” Richie sighed reluctantly. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay with Eddie all night, holding him against his chest while he slept, but he had some shit he had to do before the Allen Job. He stood up and took Eddie’s face in his hands, leaning down to kiss him softly. His heart twirled when Eddie’s hands came up to wrap around his wrists, gently holding him in place as their tongues slid together. Eddie made a sweet little humming sound as they kissed, exhaling through his nose. That noise alone was almost enough for Richie to get hard again, his dick twitching in his boxers as he swallowed it down, but then Eddie pulled back, big brown doe eyes sweeping over Richie’s face, hands still around his bandaged wrists as Richie’s hands held him in place. “I should probably go,” Richie said again, trying to will himself to leave. “But, I’ll see you soon, yeah?” 

Eddie nodded, letting Richie pull him in for another gentle kiss. 

*** 

Richie slept late the next day, having been pretty well wiped out from his night spent with Eddie. He had a long couple of days ahead of him, getting ready for the Allen Job, so he didn’t waste anytime getting to work. 

He called Bill first thing when he woke up, writing down every bit of new information Bill had for him and poring over every file in Paul Allen’s mark folder. He’d be coming through town around 9 PM with his one backup car. He’d be driving an all black Escalade, license plate number PRK 1329, his backup car would be a corvette, license plate number BPP 2871, and Bill promised to set up blocks to guide them right into Richie and Eddie’s hands. 

Richie would be up on top of the Ludwig Bank building, a skyscraper smack in the middle of Axis Street, which is the route Allen would be forced to take. Richie would keep an eye on things through a sniper rifle, something he’d have to borrow from Mike, as he didn’t usually use that kind of weapon. 

Eddie would keep his car in an alley on Perrin Road, two streets over from Axis, and wait for Allen and his backup car to pass by. He’d then run the backup car off the road and cut Allen’s car off. He’d kill him and the driver, with Richie helping out from up above if need be, and they’d take off together in Eddie’s car. 

Richie was nervous. He wasn’t a sniper and he was so anxious about the whole thing that he threw up three times while he was getting shit together. 

He picked up the gun from Mike Saturday evening before driving down Axis to check out his point. The street wasn’t that long, and it turned Richie’s stomach with worry. He was scared that Eddie wouldn’t have enough time to get rid of the backup car before they made it to where Richie could help. There wasn’t anything he could do about a corvette from so high up. It would be too fast to snipe, and Eddie would be in serious danger. 

*** 

The night of the hit, Richie met Eddie at Hog’s, climbing into the passenger seat of his Camaro and buckling himself in. “I left the rifle on the roof of the bank about an hour ago.” Richie said as Eddie pulled away from the curb. “In a bag. I hid it in an air vent.” Eddie nodded, eyes locked on the road as he weaved in and out of traffic. “You ready, Spaghetti?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Eddie exhaled heavily, eyes flashing to the clock on his dashboard. “Bill texted this morning to wish me luck.” 

Richie nodded. “He did the same to me.” They rode in silence for a while before Richie spoke again. “I’m so nervous, Eddie. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie shook his head. He was frowning. “I—“ He stuttered, breath ragged as he inhaled. “I trust you, Richie.” 

Richie’s heart flipped and he smiled softly, reaching out to brush his fingers over the soft, yellowing bruise on Eddie’s cheekbone. “I trust you too, Eddie.” 

Eddie smiled back, eyes flashing over to Richie for a second as he pulled up to the curb in front of the Ludwig building. He shifted the car into park and turned to face Richie, fiddling with his gloves. “It’s all going to be fine, Rich. We’ll meet back here after all of this and get some food or something.” 

Richie reached up and brushed a loose curl up into Eddie black beanie. “Be careful, Eds, please.” 

“I will,” Eddie nodded. 

Richie leaned across the console and kissed him softly before popping open the passenger door and climbing out. 

*** 

At 8:52, Paul Allen’s car rolled past the alley that Eddie was parked in, with the corvette in tow. Eddie pulled out after them immediately, keeping his headlights off and pressing the gas pedal down, hard. He needed to get the backup car away from Allen first, ram it into a pole or a ditch or something, so he picked up speed rapidly, meaning to ram it from the side and into a street sign. 

Bill had set up blocks as he’d promised, forcing the cars to take the route that they’d planned out, but before Eddie could ram the corvette, it took off, swerving around Allen’s SUV and pulling away, disappearing down the road and around a turn. 

It was unsettling, watching the car peel off like that, but Eddie didn’t really have any choice other than to focus his attention on Allen’s car instead. He picked up speed again, grabbing his pistol from the center console and pulling up next to the SUV. He aimed for the driver’s side window, trying to shoot the driver first, but his car lurched to the side, his head cracking hard against his window as he spun out in the street. 

Eddie’s chest heaved as he tried to right his car, watching the SUV and the corvette drive further away, making a sharp right and continuing on down the road. 

*** 

Richie had watched what happened through the scope of his rifle, unable to do anything to help as the corvette rammed Eddie, hard, spinning him out in the middle of the street. 

The backs of his knees were sweaty where he was kneeling, barrel of his gun propped up against the edge of the roof, watching as Eddie followed Allen and his backup car around the turn. Eddie was catching up, building up speed as they continued down Gorge Street, the next street over from where Richie was situated. 

The corvette sped away again, looping around the street and coming back around to ram Eddie again. They were getting closer and closer to Axis, closer and closer to Richie. He knew Eddie needed an assist. To hell with the bullshit “backup post,” he pulled the rifle off the edge of the building and took off for the staircase, deciding he’d be of more use to Eddie on the street. 

*** 

As Eddie turned onto Gorge, the Camaro hissed, taking the turn at nearly 100 miles an hour. Allen was fast, but Eddie was faster, picking up speed as they continued down the straightaway. The corvette was gone again, and Eddie knew it would be coming back around, but he didn’t have the time to worry about it. If he could just cut Allen off, he’d have the upper hand. He needed to get to Axis first, he needed to be somewhere Richie could help if he needed it. 

The corvette rammed him again, this time speeding out of an alley to t-bone him from the passenger side, sending him skidding up onto the sidewalk before turning and driving away, following the SVU onto Axis. 

Eddie was running out of time, and his car stalled as he tried to follow, chugging and shuddering as he pressed the gas pedal down to the floor. 

He whipped onto Axis as Allen zoomed past the Ludwig building, taillights getting smaller and smaller in the distance. The corvette was gone, most likely already looping around to ram him again. 

He couldn’t reach Allen, there was no way now. His car was fucked, the passenger side smashed in from where the corvette had hit him. Even if his car wasn’t essentially destroyed, Allen was heading back into the city, the city full of other people. Pedestrians, other drivers, fucking cops. “Motherfucker!” Eddie groaned, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. His car shuddered loudly as his speed dropped below 120, the SUV long gone in the distance. 

The backup car was still on his ass though, having looped back around, ramming him anytime it got close enough. Eddie yelled out in frustration, slamming the brakes and throwing the car into park at 80 miles an hour. The front of the car locked up while the back wheels kept moving, launching the car up onto its front bumper and flipping, ass-over-teakettle, down the road. 

*** 

By the time Richie made it back down to the street, Eddie’s car was screaming past him. Richie stood on the sidewalk and watched as the corvette rammed Eddie again, jolting him forward a few feet. 

All of the air in Richie’s lungs left at once as Eddie’s car flipped, back end rising off the ground, up and over the hood, the car tumbling down the street and crashing to a stop against a telephone pole. “Spaghetti,” Richie said quietly as the backup car roared around the corner and disappeared into the night. 

Richie took off, sprinting towards the wreck of Eddie’s car. He was there in seconds, surveying the accident. Eddie’s car had flipped onto its already smashed-in passenger side, the roof crushing into the telephone pole that stopped it from skidding. “Eddie!” Richie yelled, running around to the front of the car. The windshield had shattered and Eddie was still slumped in his seat, buckled in, caught by his seatbelt. His eyes were closed and his arms were dangling to the side. Blood dripped from his temple, across his forehead and over his eyes. The force of the accident had knocked his beanie clean off, and his dark, curly hair was hanging loosely around his face. “Eddie,” Richie said again, tossing his gun onto the sidewalk. Broken glass crunched under his feet as he crouched down to lean in through the gaping hole that was once the windshield. 

The airbag had gone off and was now hanging limply from the steering wheel. The entire car was hot, any metal Richie touched burning his skin. “Eds, c’mon.” Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie’s chest before unbuckling his seatbelt, letting Eddie’s full weight fall into his arms. Eddie moaned softly as Richie pulled him down. “Oh, thank god.” Richie mumbled, pressing a kiss into Eddie’s blood-sticky hair. 

“Rich?” Eddie’s lips barely moved as he spoke. 

“Yeah, I’m here, sweetheart.” Richie looped his arms under Eddie’s and pulled him out of the broken windshield and onto the street. He could hear sirens in the distance as he dragged Eddie away from the wreckage. “Fuck, Eddie, we have to get out of here, someone called the cops.” The sirens were getting closer but they had nowhere to go, the car was totaled and Richie couldn’t very well carry Eddie out of here. They’d get caught. 

“Richie?” Eddie’s eyes were open now, he was licking his lips and looking around. “Are you hurt?” He asked as Richie sat him against a brick building. 

Richie huffed a laugh. “Am  _I_ hurt?” Eddie nodded, looking Richie up and down. “No, Eds, I’m fine.” He glanced back over his shoulder. There were no cop cars yet, but he expected them any second. “Can you walk?” 

Eddie nodded again. “I need help,” 

“I’ve got you,” Richie threw Eddie’s arm over his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. Eddie winced as they took their first step. “Eddie—“ 

“I’m fine,” Eddie shook his head and waved dismissively. “We need to move.” 

“Your car, Eds—“ 

“The plates are fake.” Eddie continued limping forward, leaning heavily on Richie. “We can’t go to the hospital.” 

“No,” Richie agreed. “But I know where I can take you.” 

*** 

“Stay here, Eds.” Richie leaned Eddie against the porch railing, stopping to kiss his cheek before moving over to pound on the door. 

He’d brought Eddie to the only person he could trust. They couldn’t go to the hospital and risk being associated with the accident. And Bill would have a goddamn meltdown if they showed up at his place like this. No, they needed to get Eddie cleaned up first. When Stanley opened the front door he was frowning. “Richie?” 

“We need help,” He said instead of wasting time with pleasantries. 

Stan’s eyes feel on Eddie and he jumped. “Jesus, come in.” 

Richie helped Stan bring Eddie inside and sit him down in their living room. Patty brought him his medical bag and stood back, waiting to help out where Stan needed her. Richie held Eddie’s hand while Stanley dug glass out of his forehead and stitched his face up. Eddie leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut as Stan lifted his shirt, examining the burns and bruises left by his seatbelt. “I don’t think any of your ribs are broken.” Stanley mumbled, pushing lightly on Eddie’s torso with his gloved hands. 

“Hooray,” Eddie raised his hands up in a little celebration. 

“I thought I’d lost you there, Eds.” Richie pushed a curl behind Eddie’s ear. 

“No such luck.” Eddie smiled up at him. “Thank you, doctor.” He turned back to Stanley. 

“I’m not a doctor,” Stan closed up his medical bag and stripped off his gloves. “But, you’re welcome.” He put his hand on Richie’s arm and led him into the kitchen. “What happened?” He asked, washing his hands in the sink. 

“He crashed his car.” Richie leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Cops looking for you?” 

“No, we got out of there before anyone showed up.” 

Stanley scrubbed his hands in silence for a moment. “Who was the mark?” 

“Paul Allen.” 

Stanley looked over his shoulder at Richie, eyebrows nearly at his hairline. “Seriously?” 

Richie nodded. “Yeah, but he got away.” 

Stan grabbed some paper towels and began to pat his hands dry. “Shit, Bill is going to flip.” 

Richie sighed. “I know,” He ran his hand through his hair. 

Patty stepped into the kitchen and pressed a cup of coffee into his hand. “Here, Rich.” She smiled up at him from behind her glasses. “You look good.” 

“Thanks, Patty.” He followed her eyes as she glanced back at Eddie. 

“He yours?” 

Richie’s heart swelled at the question, watching Eddie trace over the stitches on his chest. “Yeah, he’s mine.” 

Stan picked up Richie’s wrist in his hand, turning it over to examine the bandages. “What the fuck happened to you?” 

Richie sipped his coffee and watched as Patty crouched down next to Eddie, handing him a cup of coffee and speaking to him in a hushed voice. “Nothing,” He glanced back to Stan. 

“Did you cut yourself?” Stan looked more mad than concerned, crossing his arms over his chest while he spoke. 

“It was an accident.” Richie shook his head. “I’m fine, Stanley, really.” 

“Who closed you up?” He asked. “Are you going to a different doctor? You know I consider that cheating.” 

Richie laughed and Stanley smiled. “You aren’t a doctor,” Richie repeated Stan’s words from earlier and Stan rolled his eyes. “He’s going to be ok, right? He doesn’t have a concussion or anything?” Richie watched as Patty helped Eddie back into his shirt, frowning when Eddie winced. 

“No, he doesn’t have a concussion.” Stan stepped up next to Richie. “He should be fine, Rich. Those stitches will have to come out in a couple of weeks, so you can just bring him back here and I’ll do it.” Stan clapped Richie on the shoulder, leaving his hand there as they watched Patty wipe the blood from Eddie’s hair with a wet cloth. “What are you going to tell Bill?” 

Richie groaned and hung his head back. “Fuck, Bill is going to freak.” Richie sighed. “He’s still pissed about the Marian thing.” 

“If I were you, I’d be more worried about what the guy who hired you is going to do when he finds out the hit got away.” 

“Jesus, fuck me.” Richie dug the heels of his hands into his eyes under his glasses. 

“Who hired you?” Stan asked. 

“Fucking Damien Hayes.” 

“Mm,” Stan squeezed Richie’s shoulder. “He’s going to fucking kill you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


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